Sweeney Todd: The Demon Parody of Fleet Street
by Concepteur-Redacteur
Summary: Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls! Sweeney Todd fans of all ages! Prepare to embark on a song-filled, bloody, and side-splittingly hilarious satire of the movie world's favorite slasher musical! PART 7 FINALLY UP! FINALLY!
1. London is not Disney World

**About This Parody:** Usually, I don't write parodies. I don't ever think I can muster up enough humor to succeed in the satire arena. However, I've had "Sweeney Todd" on the brain ever since seeing the movie... all three times, that is. I absolutely adore "Sweeney Todd" in every way possible, especially having been involved in musical theatre for a lot of my life. So, this parody comes from the heart. I don't believe there is a single thing about this movie that would cause me to try to be hurtful. I'm merely trying to give fans like me an brief escape from the angst of the film (however amazing that angst is). hugs Sweeney Todd

**Disclaimer:** Unfortunately, I don't own anything "Sweeney." Those things belong to Sondheim, Dreamworks, yada yada yada.

Please, read, enjoy, and review if you like! And now, on with the mayhem! (Drumroll please...)

**Sweeney Todd: The Demon Parody of Fleet Street**

**Movie Reel Operating Dude** – Alright, let's get this over with… (flicks switch on giant movie reel machine)

**Random Fangirl in Movie Theater** – Turn your cell phones _off_, bitches!!

Opening titles: ooooo, really super low string ensemble! Hey, the Dreamworks icon looks a little different than usual, kind of like a gigantic tornado is going to come and maul the little boy fishing on the moon. Run, little boy, run!! Oh well, too late, he's been crushed by a giant D…

**Random Five-Year-Old in Movie Theater** – Mommy, I don't think we're in the right place, this extremely eerie credit montage is freakier than the new version of "Alvin and the Chipmunks!"

**Mother of the Random Five-Year-Old** – Dammit!! My ex-husband told me that Sweeney Todd was about ponies! I guess he never forgave me for the potato incident…

_Oh, look, it's the London bridge… or, at least some bridge in London. The pretty music doesn't exactly match all of the dinginess, though. But it doesn't matter - Anthony's voice is going to make all the monsters go away with its pretty girly-ness!_

**Anthony** – (trying to look wise, but still remains so adorably naïve) I've been everywhere! And I mean everywhere! I've seen gold, amazing pieces of architecture, and had sex with hot native chicks! And all I got was a soggy Australian! Or, at least I think he's Australian cause that's where I pulled him out of the ocean… But never mind that, because this dingy dirt-hole is my favorite place ever! And pfft, who needs sex anyway?

**Sweeney** – You do. Badly. And you must be completely stupid to think that this piece-of-crap hell-hole is the equivalent of Disney World.

**Random Fangirl** – SEX! SEXXX!!! SWEENEY TODD, I WANT TO BE IMPREGNATED BY YOU! AND HAVE YOUR LITTLE ANGSTY CHILDREN!!

**Anthony** – (Trying to hold back tears of innocence) Mr. Todd, you… you ruined my lighthearted moment! I mean, sure your character is the main focus of the movie and sets the tone of the film for viewers of all ages, but… _come on, man!_

**Sweeney** – My life has pretty much sucked up to this point; do you think your warbling, girly rants about native-chick-sex will make it any better?

**Anthony** – (sulking) Maybe…

_Sweeney Todd is now walking (angstily) into the streets of crappy London, Anthony following him like a lost puppy._

**Sweeney** – Can you stop following me like a lost puppy, you ignorant whelp?

**Anthony** – Tell me a story!

**Sweeney** – If I tell you a story, will you leave?

**Anthony** – If the story is disturbing enough, probably.

**Sweeney** – Alllll-righty, then… Once upon a-

**Anthony** – Oh, and you have to sing it!

**Sweeney – **Bugger. (clears throat and begins to sing) Once upon a time, in a perfect world, there lived a barber. This barber was a total baller, and his wife… man she had the most rockin' body. And of course, the barber was like, "Wife, we have _seriously_ got to start making babies because our children would be so hot, they would singe the eyebrows off of every hobo in London." So they did… after he threw away the birth control he found in her satchel, the bitch. Anyway, they had an awesome girl kid. But soon this stuffed-shirt fancy-pants judge started hitting on the barber's wife. He got her drunk and had sex with her, of course. Because everyone knows you can't be a fair judge when the whole _world_ is so freaking unfair. The judge started to realize that he would like to have sex with the barber's wife more often, and then have sex with the barber's daughter when she got a little older. So he snapped his fingers and had the barber shipped off to maximum-security prison on the grounds that the barber had stolen his judge's wig. But honestly, if I were a judge, I would want my wig stolen so that I would have an excuse not to wear it. The end.

**Anthony** – …

**Sweeney** – Well, are you leaving?

**Anthony** – Yeah, sure, but I have a question…

**Sweeney** – What the hell is it, sailor boy?

**Anthony** – Aren't _you_ wearing a wig right now?

**Sweeney** – (absolutely dripping with sexy sarcasm) Thanks. Thanks a whole lot. And I thought that Herbal Essences was working wonders for it. Can you leave?

**Anthony** – Actually, I have another question, sorry…

**Sweeney** – Sorry doesn't really help the fact that I'm so messed up, but go ahead.

**Anthony** – When I pulled you from the freezing water near Australia (a place where nobody in their right mind would live unless they had a kangaroo fetish) what the fudgesickle were you doing there?

**Sweeney** – (lying through his teeth) I had just escaped Australian natives, and the island itself.

**Anthony** – Oh… I don't know why you would want to escape the natives, but anyway, how did you do it?

**Sweeney** – Um… hehe… Oh! I know! I used my back hair to rope a couple of sea turtles together and make a raft!

**Anthony** – O.o …Well, since your story was disturbing enough, I think I'll leave. Will you shake my hand with your godly flesh?

**Sweeney** – No. I'm too busy thinking about where the nearest opium den is.

**Anthony** – Oh. Good luck with that.

_Sweeney Todd walks away, swearing about the overall crappyness of London, and the overall stupidity of Anthony._


	2. Enter Mrs Lovett!

**Hi everyone!** Thank you so, so much to all of my reviewers! It really makes a writer feel appreciated and motivated to get more chappies up!

So, without further ado, I present the next installment of this wacky adventure...

Please read, enjoy, and review if you'd like! Bon appetite!

**Sweeney Todd: The Demon P****arody of Fleet Street - Part Two**

**Sweeney:** (pacing through the streets of London… sexily) There's a hole in the world like a big black pit and it's filled with people who are filled with-

**Mother of the Random Five-Year-Old** – (covers Random Five-Year-Old's ears) Aw, Christ! My ex _really_ hasn't forgiven me for that potato incident… I mean, come on, he was only hospitalized for two weeks!

**Random Busybody in Theater** – Lady, you know you can take your kid and leave whenever you want…

**Mother** – God would be angry with me if I left the beauty that is Johnny Depp! And how would I sleep at night knowing that I sinned in front of my own child! What kind of mother do you think I am, buddy?

_Unfortunately, it's too late for Random Busybody to answer, because the entire audience is launched full-scale into a maximum-speed thrill ride through the alleyways of London._

**Entire Audience** - Barfs

**Random Theater Employee Standing by the Doors** – Damn. I'll go get the shovel… (starts to walk away, muttering under his breath) …every friggin' time they show this movie… you think they'd put barf bags on the seat backs or something…

_Finally, stillness. A few scattered retching noises among the audience dwindle into silence. Sweeney has arrived at – (trumpet fanfare) – Mrs. Lovett's Meat Pie Emporium._

**Sweeney** – I guess this is the closest thing to a McDonalds around here. I wonder if a "meat pie" is the same thing as a Big Mac…? (walks into the store and finds Mrs. Lovett, chopping something-or-other in a strangely rhythmic pattern) Okay, yeah, maybe this isn't like McDonald's…

**Mrs. Lovett** – Ohmyfrickingosh-a-customer!!!! Jesus-though-you-like-totally-freaked-me-out-cause-you're-so-pale-and-angsty-lookin'… I-mean-no-wait-I-mean-that-like-I-never-'ave-customers-coz-my-pies-like-taste-worse-than-CiCi's-pizza-after-three-hours-of-soaking-in-spoiled-milk-an'-cat-tongues. But-never-mind, here-you-like-totally-'ave-to-try-one-anyway-cause-it's-just-like-totally-unfair-that-hobos-an'-whores-won't-even-eat-this-stuff-when-they're-about-to-die-of-freaking-starvation (shoves a whole pie into Sweeney's mouth)

**Sweeney** – Erp. I think-

**Mrs. Lovett** – (mixing together odds and ends like a mad scientist on crack, and talking like one too) I'm-just-tryin'-to-run-a-right-respectable-business-I-is-cause-Mrs.-Mooney-(that-bitch)-puts-cats-in-her-pies-and-I-admit-I-like-push-the-envelope-with-my-recipes-from-time-to-time-(let's-not-talk-about-the-groundhog-jerky)-but-seriously-I'd-rather-eat-a-human-than-a-cat… (finally seeing that Sweeney is struggling to form words) Sorry-luv-wot-were-you-tryin'-to-say?

**Sweeney** – I think I just had an aneurysm. In my mouth. As if I wasn't screwed up enough already.

**Mrs. Lovett** – You-know-what-fixes-angst-is-a-nice-glass-of-hard-liquor! And-a-story! Wanna-hear-a-story??

**Sweeney** – (Turning green) Only if you slow… the hell… down, woman.

**Mrs. Lovett** – Fine-let's-go-in-this-little… (masters herself… no people, not _masturbates_ herself, _masters_ herself… and starts talking a little slower) Let's pop on into this cozy little back room… Don't you like the wallpaper? I got it from that burnt chapel, bought it off the… well, ok, I stole it, but if was only _half_-singed, so how could I let that deal slip? It was like shopping at a dollar store, only… all that was for sale was wallpaper and… everyone else that was shopping there was shriveled up from being burnt alive… But anyway! Story time now! Hmmmmm… I think I'll tell you the story behind why people think my very convenient upstairs room is haunted.

**Sweeney** – Well, no duh it's haunted!! You stole wallpaper from a dead bunch of friggin' holy rollers!

**Mrs. Lovett** – You need more ale. Seriously. Okay, on wiv the story. So there was this barber, right? Benjamin Barker. And let me tell you, 'e was absolutely smokin'… kinda like you! Whew! And 'e could use a razor better than the most experienced emo cutter kid… but not like that. And 'e never wore skinny jeans, but 'e did wear these tight trousers that made 'is arse look divine. Anyhoo, 'e lived right up in that room, and boy, not a second went by that I didn' want to attack him like a fierce, sexual warrior princess…

**Random Fangirl in the Theater** – THAT'S RIGHT, GIRL, YOU GO GET HIM!! YOU GO ASSAULT HIM FOR ALL US GIRLS WHO ARE SEPARATED FROM HIM BY THE INFINITE BOUNDARIES OF SPACE AND TIME!!! AND THE FACT THAT HE'S A FICTIONAL CHARACTER!!! A SEX-GOD OF A FICTIONAL CHARACTER!!!!!

**Mother of the Random Five-Year-Old:** Yeah, sister, tell it!!

**Mrs. Lovett** - But the dealio was, 'e 'ad this slutty ditz wife who was always sad even though she 'ad a hottie for a hubby…

**Sweeney** – (realization dawns) Waitaminute… slutty ditz?!

**Mrs. Lovett** – Yeah, I guess you didn' 'ear me the first time. So, there's this pervy judge, right? I mean, real pervy. Like, super-perve deluxe. An' he sends 'is little toady manservant out to get the barber's bitchy wife – (she was stupid enough to go with him) – and the judge gets her drunk, has sex wiv 'er, then is overcome with lust and ships the barber off to Australia. Which isn't that bad for the barber, becoz 'e probably could 'ave found a nice-lookin' koala wiv the same level of intelligence as 'is wife that 'e could do it to.

**Random Fangirls in the Theater Who Have Already Seen the Movie** – It's coming!! It's coming!!! The angsty scream of deliciousness!!!!!

**Sweeney** – AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!

**Mrs. Lovett** – Jeez-Louise, maybe that pie I fed you was older than I thought…

**Sweeney** – No, you crackhead biotch! That's _my_ wife you're talking about!!!

**Mrs. Lovett** – Oh, you were married to her too, once?

**Sweeney** – (from behind clenched teeth) If I had my razors now, I swear to all that is unholy…

**Mrs. Lovett** – Wait! Did you say razor?! Ohhhhhhhhhh, I totally get it! _You're_ the barber! Well, welcome home, Benny-boy!

**Sweeney** – I hope you realize that before I was shipped off to prison, I imagined a different breed of dog mutilating your face for every time you called me Benny-boy.

**Mrs. Lovett** – That just makes me idolize you more and more! By the way, you're wife poisoned herself and the super-perve deluxe judge has your daughter, who by now is probably old enough to be raped by him.

**Sweeney** – Terrific. My own personal hell. This is even worse than what they did to me in prison with that didgeridoo.

**(Random National Geographic Scholar** - Didgeridoo: an Australian wind instrument used in traditional Aborigine folk music that produces a singularly odd twanging noise... not unlike the noise of some chick having her bra snapped in slow motion).

**Sweeney **- In fact, Mrs. Lovett, after you calling me Benny-boy for a while, I started to hate my own name so much that I changed it to Sweeney Todd.

**Mrs. Lovett** – (nonplussed) Oh. Well, that's an all right name I guess, but it kind of sounds like a cross between a Mark Twain character and a Teletubbie.

**Sweeney** – And before I find a dog that will _actually_ mutilate your face, I'm going to get revenge on Judge Super-Perve Deluxe!

**Mrs. Lovett** – Actually it's Judge Turpin, I think. And don't worry, I'll help you every step of the way! Because secretly I want to marry you, lather you in scented oils, and make ferocious love to you…

**Fangirls of All Ages, Races, and Belief Systems** – AS DO WE!! AS DO WE!!!

**End of Part 2. Stay tuned for Part 3, everyone! Thanks again!**


	3. The Harley Davidson Razors?

**Hey y'all!** Again, many heartfelt thanks to all of my reviewers! I hope I can continue to successfully bring you all the lighter side of "Sweeney!"

Shall we continue with Part 3 of this loopy fic?

Read, enjoy, and review if you'd like! Preeeesenting:

**Sweeney Todd: The Demon Parody of Fleet Street – Part 3**

**Mrs. Lovett** – So now that I've just wrecked every fleeting hope that you may 'ave 'ad a decent life once you came back 'ere, do you wanna see the room that will bring all of your extremely depressing memories back??

**Sweeney** – I don't know, do I? It kind of sucks that all I wanted was a Big Mac, and I what I got was news that my wife died, my daughter is the captive of a pervert, and the only person left who loves me is a deranged lusty baker. (Now I kind of like the sound of that koala). But since this situation can't possibly get any worse, why not?

**Mrs. Lovett** – Alright, follow me! Next stop: haunted, decrepit room above the meat pie emporium… Here we goooooooooooooooooooo! (whisks Sweeney up the stairs, singing, "You can fly, you can fly, you can fly!!!")

_Aw, Sweeney looks really sad standing out there! For a moment, you could swear that he isn't an insane, revenge-driven blood-seeker!_

**Random Five-Year-Old** – Mommy, that man looks like he needs a hug and a big triple-scoop cone of Superman ice cream!

**Random Fangirl** – You sweet, innocent child! What he really needs is a big heapin' helpin' of fornication! From me!!!

**Sweeney** – (starts to life the blanket off the top of the cradle)

**People Who are Easily Weirded Out** – Please don't be a creepy old baby doll with gaping eyes, please don't be a creepy old baby doll with gaping eyes, please don't be a-

_It's a creepy old baby doll with gaping eyes!_

**People Who are Easily Weirded Out** – Aw, _come on_, Tim Burton!!

**Mrs. Lovett** – Alrighty, so every year the peasants and lowly shopkeepers of London get together an' 'ave a giant raffle party so we can 'ave a shot at affording items like clothes, toiletries, condoms, Pokemon cards, yada yada yada. So one year I decides to raffle off your razors, becoz seriously, who wouldn't want them? They're part of your overall allure! So I'm putting my tickets in the bins for different items, an' I realize: wait just a friggin' minute! _I_ want them! So that I can build a shrine to your godliness out of 'em for you to see when you gets back! So I go and take all my tickets out of the Pokemon card drawing an' put 'em in for your razors!

**Sweeney** – I can see by that shrine to my godliness built out of razors over in the corner that you won them.

**Mrs. Lovett** – I was more proud of meself than the time I accidentally poisoned Mrs. Mooney's son wiv one of my pies!

**Sweeney** – Why the hell do the razors have flames painted on the handles?

**Mrs. Lovett** – Because flames make everything sexier…?

**Sweeney** – They look like mini Harley Davidson motorcycles without wheels, engines, or handlebars, for frick's sake!!

**Mrs. Lovett** – Fine, whatever, I'll take the flames off; they're only decals anyway…

**Sweeney** – I think that because these razors are my only link to my past, my happiness, and my hot wife, I shall sing to them. (starts cradling the razors and singing to them) O razor, o razor, wherefore art thou merely an inanimate object incapable of giving me a blowjob?

**Mrs. Lovett** – I-want-to-be-those-razors-I-want-to-be-those-razors-I-want-to-be-those-razors…

**Random Fangirl** – (singing along, but thinking, "I-NEED-TO-BE-THOSE-RAZORS-I-NEED-TO-BE-THOSE-RAZORS-I-NEED-TO-BE-THOSE-RAZORS)

**Sweeney and Mrs. Lovett** – (In perfect harmony) You're waaaaarm in my-

_Cell phone goes off. It's the hello-moto ringtone._

**Random Fangirl** – BITCH!!! I don't care if that phone call is the news that your dog is going into cardiac arrest, TURN THE FRICKING CELL PHONE OFF!!

_Sweeney and Mrs. Lovett finish the song. Everyone in the theater looks like they've been hypnotized by a mystical white tiger with glittery purple eyes and fur made out of marshmallow fluff and goose down. Mrs. Lovett is left with her face two inches away from Sweeney's – the sexual tension is so thick you couldn't cut it with a 7000-horsepower chainsaw. Mrs. Lovett inches a little closer and-_

**Sweeney and Mrs. Lovett** – (Kiss the kiss that expresses the desires of every straight woman in the universe!!)

**SweeneyLovett Shippers in the Theater** – Die. Their quest for self-actualization has come to a fulfilling close.

_The movie reel stops abruptly with the sound of a needle scratching the record of acute disappointment._

**Tim Burton** – Ha! Ha-ha! Just kidding, folks! If you think I would destroy Sweeney's motive this early, you're absolutely nutters! Johnny, Helena darling, let's try that one again!

_Movie reel rewinds and plays that moment again, without the breathtaking smooch this time._

**SweeneyLovett Shippers** – Die again. (This is just too much for one afternoon.) They then go write some SweeneyLovett fics to repair their broken souls.

**Sweeney** – Christ, will you ever leave me alone, witchy-woman?

**Mrs. Lovett** – Um… I was only afraid that you would try to have sex wiv the razor and cut your baby-making tools off, is all… so… hehe… yes, I'll be going now.

**Random Five-Year-Old** – Mommy, what does she mean by "baby-making tools?" Does she mean like, a hammer you can nail the baby's head on with?

**Mother of the Random Five-Year-Old** – Jesus… Sweetie, haven't you learned all about that in health class yet?

**Sweeney** – At last, my arm is complete again!!!

**(Author of This Parody** - I wouldn't even _think_ of spoofing the best freaking line in the entire movie!!)

_Pan out from the barbershop window as the theme to "Inspector Gadget" plays robustly and menacingly…_

**Diehard Fans of the Broadway Musical in the Theater** – This totally would have been a good place to put the friggin' "Ballad of Sweeney Todd," but noooooooo! Damn Hollywood!

**Fin... for now! Stay tuned for Part 4, everybody! Thanks again!**


	4. Enter Judge SuperPerve Deluxe!

**I'm back!** And I'm feeling absolutely ecstatic right now, because (a) I'm getting such wonderful reviews from you all, and (b) I saw "Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street" for the _fourth time_ today! Honestly, it gets better every time I go see it; plus, I've been given some great inspiration for future chapters!

So let's get on with Part 4, shall we?

Read, enjoy, and review if you'd like! I think I feel a chapter coming on; it must be…

**Sweeney Todd: The Demon Parody of Fleet Street – Part 4**

_Meanwhiiiiile… Our gallant (yet slightly girly) young Anthony roams the streets of London, wondering if he should go meet Mr. Todd at that opium den after all, when…_

**Johanna** – (with a voice higher than every hippie in the world combined) Ooooooh, my avian, feathered friends! My life has so many problems! (…Stop singing, by Jingo, and listen to _me!_) I mean, I'm the (makes finger quotes) "ward" of a psycho-perve-nut-job, who's probably watching me _as we speak_-

**Judge Turpin** – (puts the picture of naked people back over the peephole) Dammit. Foiled again.

**Johanna** – Not to mention I have to sit up here all day cross-stitching elaborate pornographic scenes for the judge, because he doesn't quite think I'm "ready to be broken in" yet, and on top of that I don't know who the hell my mom is! For all I know, she could be that crazy, tattered-looking beggar woman leaning on that… that _rugged_, _manly_ sailor boy down there on the sidewalk!!! Oooo, Joanna _likes!_

**Anthony** – (drooling a little) Hubba hubba. I'd tap that.

**Beggar Woman** – HEY PUNK! I'M _STARVING_ OVER HERE! (Anthony begrudgingly gives her money) Asinine teenagers… (begins to have a seizure) ChiiicKeN WiiinnNg!

**Anthony** – Hey, lady, can you like, _stop_ shouting about KFC and tell me who that hottie is up there?

**Beggar Woman** – OoooOooOOhhhhhh, that's Johanna! She's the judge's tasty-niblet-captive-child. (Here comes another seizure) GggolllDden LlleopppaaAArrrRD!! (And the seizure passes) There are rumors that the only words he ever taught her to speak are, "Of course I'll have sex with you, milord!"

**Anthony** – Well, that's all about to change, by God! I'm going to steal her, take her to the mountains of Peru, shelter her in a cave and teach her how to say, "Of course I'll have sex with you, _Anthony!_"

**Purists in the Theater** – No! No, no, no! Anthony, you're supposed to be the young, innocent, lighthearted ingénue! Er… oh wait, an ingénue is a girl. Um, we mean, you're supposed to the young, innocent, lighthearted _male_ ingénue!

**(Random Talking Webster's Dictionary** – ingénue: \an-jə-nü, än-; aⁿ-zhə-, äⁿ-\ 1. a naïve girl or young woman. 2. the stage role of an ingénue; _also_ : the actress playing such a role. 3. Anthony. Except when he's being perverted.)

**Judge Turpin** – (magically apparating… um, I mean _appearing_ in the doorway) Come in, _miss!_ Don't worry, I won't bite; I only have teeth for Johanna! Oh wait… you're a boy. Or at least I think you are… Well, no matter, come in anyway.

**Harry Potter** – Don't do it, Snape is evil!!!!

**People in the Theater Who Have Read the Last "Harry Potter"** – No he's not!!! And where the hell did you come from?

**Harry** – Goddamn! Hermione, I thought you said you _fixed_ the invisibility cloak!!

**Hermione** – Well, how was I supposed to know Ron was gonna use it to shield himself from Crookshanks?!

**Harry** – Bitch!

**Hermione** – Dumbhead!

_They both disapparate in a cloud of teenage-wizard-angst._

**Judge Turpin** – So let me get this straight, you were looking for an opium den… why?

**Anthony** – Well, first it was because some of my fellow crewmembers said that I should, (uses finger quotes because he saw Johanna do it) "get some balls."

**Rat in the Corner of the Room** – (magically transforming in Beadle Bamford) Why would you want balls? Aren't you a girl?

**Anthony** – I'm just going to pretend you didn't say that.

**Judge Turpin** – You know, if you want some balls, all you have to do is look at one of my ba-jillions of Playboy magazines, get turned on, go somewhere secret with yourself and make some magic happen – I've been doing it for years!

**People in the Theater Who Look for Plot Holes** – You know there's like, a thousand whores in London that you could pay to keep quiet about sleeping with you…

**The Spartan Cheerleaders from "Saturday Night Live"** – SEX CAN WAIT, MASTURBATE!!!

**Anthony **– The mysterious voices are right, you know, on both accounts. I got such a creepy rash from those native chicks… So anyway, getting balls was my original reason for going to the opium den, but now I want to go there to get high and hallucinate about humping Johanna-

**People in the Theater Who Feel Sorry for Anthony** – Gasp!

**Anthony** – Oops.

**Random Five-Year-Old in the Theater** – Does he mean he's going chop a hump off of a camel and put it on the girl's back?

**Judge Turpin** – Okay, that's it!! TEN YEARS OF DETENTION, WEASLEY!!!

**Anthony** – Um, WTF?

**Tim Burton** – Alan's still working out the kinks of playing a new role. Take it easy there, Alan!

**Judge Turpin** – My _name_ is Judge Turpin!

**Tim Burton** – Attaboy!

**Judge Turpin** – Okay, so I suppose you know the drill, sonny. (gets his face within a centimeter of Anthony's)

**AnthonyTurpin Shippers** – (if there are currently any of these out there) KISS!! SMOOCH!! SNOG!! MAKE OUT!!

**Judge Turpin** – Whoever these mysterious voices are, they're quite disturbing… not to mention they're making me question my overall sexuality…

**Anthony** – If you don't mind… (gulps) sir… you're definitely all up in my grill right about now, so I'd appreciate it if you get the $# out of it.

_Beat of silence._

**Anthony** – Please.

**Judge Turpin** – Only if you get out of here, go find your freaking opium den, and instead of hallucinating about Johanna, hallucinate about kissing my big, evil ass!

**Badasses in the Theater Who Got Dragged There by Their Girlfriends Who Wanted to See Johnny Depp** – Yeah, Judge dude! You tell him, you baller, you!

**Anthony** – (struggling to find a better insult) Well… I don't… You… Your mom is… I THINK YOUR OUTFIT IS REALLY UGLY AND SHOULD BE IN THE "FASHION POLICE" SECTION OF "US WEEKLY" MAGAZINE!!

_Anthony starts to storm off._

**AnthonyTurpin Shippers** – Almost die. But end up surviving because they knew nothing was probably gonna happen anyway. Then they go write some AnthonyTurpin fics to repair their broken souls.

**Beadle Bamford** – Beats up Anthony. (Because Anthony has no balls, of course). Then drops Anthony's rucksack on top of Anthony's back just as he's trying to pick himself up off the sidewalk.

**Cynics in the Theater** – (fall down on the ground laughing) That was… (haaahhahahaha) the best timing… (heeheehoomwahaha) EVER!!

**People Who Feel Sorry for Anthony** – Maul the Cynics.

**Random Fangirl** – WHAT THE FRIGGIN' HELL??!! THERE'S NO SWEENEY IN THIS ENTIRE DAMN SCENE!! I WANT MY $8.57 BACK RIGHT FLIPPIN' _NOW_, AMC!!!

**And that's all for now! But don't worry Random Fangirls across the nation… Sweeney will be back in Part 5! Until then; thanks again folks!**


	5. Crossing Blades: Razors, that is

**Hey, readers!** For those of you who have stuck with the story since Part 1 was first published, I owe you a sincere apology for the (::cough::rather large::cough::) gap of time in between the publishing of the last Part and this one. As I'm sure the case is for many other civilized human beings, weekdays are brutally busy for me. _However_, I realize that it is my responsibility to give humor a spot in the "Sweeney" fanfiction archive, and will try my best to keep the updates coming.

Now, please, let's knock off the seriousness and bring on the funny! It's snowing like there's no tomorrow where I am and I'm in an extremely good mood!

Please read, enjoy, and review if you'd like! I now unveil…

**Sweeney Todd: The Demon Parody of Fleet Street – Part 5**

**Random News Reporter Reading from a Random Teleprompter in the Far Reaches of Infinity** – We now return to your regularly scheduled program, i.e. the motley pair formally known as Sweeney Todd and Mrs. Lovett. But mainly Sweeney Todd, because if I don't make it clear that he'll be in this scene, those hungry-looking fangirls over there will probably come and lynch me. Violently.

**People Who Enjoy Pointing Out the Obvious – **Since when has lynching _not_ been violent?

_The scene changes to reveal an open-air market in (you guessed it) crappy London. Sweeney and Mrs. Lovett are taking a walk. Or, rather, Mrs. Lovett is taking a walk and kind of leading Sweeney along._

**Hungry-Looking Fangirls** – Put away their pitchforks, nooses, garden shears, interactive Dora the Explorer dolls, and other instruments typical of angry mobs. It's a lucky day for the Random News Reporter.

**Mrs. Lovett** – So when you left, all the men in London starting growing these utterly disgusting beards becoz there was no tonsorial parlor. Everything got stuck in 'em. An' I mean everything! Scraps o' food, toothpaste, paint, fishhooks, soup ladles, coat hangers… Society 'ere developed more problems than usual. The divorce rate increased because men would 'ave sex with random chicks an' come home to their wives with the women's pantyhose stuck in their beards. Not pretty. Did I ever tell you 'ow that chapel burnt down in the first place?

**Sweeney** – Um, what the hell is toothpaste?

**Mrs. Lovett** – (mindlessly chattering away) This widowed old coot comes into the chapel to light a candle for 'is dead wife, bless 'is heart, and next thing ye know 'is beard lights on fire, kinda just melts 'is face away like cheap taffy, an' then finished off everything else in the place… well, except the wallpaper, that is. I managed to escape by pure chance. I mean, it was a friggin' miracle! If God hadn't told me to shove that old lady out o' the way and get to the door just before the fire reached our pew, I wouldn't have had a chance in hell! Did you know, Mr. Todd, that my worst fear is being burned alive?

**Sweeney** – Really? Because I thought your worst fear was having to shut your freaking piehole for thirty seconds…

**Mrs. Lovett** – (Completely oblivious) Yes, sir; if I was burning alive, I think I'd die of fear first! I mean, if someone was ever _really _pissed at me, like _really, REALLY PISSED,_ all they would 'ave to do to get the perfect revenge would be burn me alive. Then again, they'd 'ave to be extremely intelligent, kinda like you, Mr. T. And they 'ave to 'ave a freaking _ginormous_ fire readily available, kinda like the oven in my bake'ouse…

**Sweeney** – Note to self: _Get Mrs. Lovett alone in the bakehouse. Soon._

**People Who Have Already Seen the Movie** – Giggle uncontrollably.

**People Who Haven't Already Seen the Movie** – What the fu… HEY, WAITAMINUTE! YOU PEOPLE _KNOW_ SOMETHING, DON'T YOU?! BITCHES!!

**Mrs. Lovett** – Alllrighty, where was I?

**Sweeney** – Everywhere. Nowhere.

**Mrs. Lovett** – Ah, yes! All these giant beards got to be kind of a bitch, so the Committee of Peasants and Lowly Shopkeepers got together and hired this Italian drag queen to set up a handy-dandy get-you-face-hacked-at-by-an-Italian-drag-queen booth. We don't know why the hell we chose him, but he's damn good at making people think he knows how to use a razor. And when he messes up, it's about ten times more enjoyable than those public executions the government tries to get us to haul our asses to! Oh look, here's his booth now!

**Sweeney** – Can we leave? All the bright colors are gonna make me blow chunks in a few seconds here. And I think my head is pounding.

**Random Fangirl** – Aaargh! This would be the opportune moment for some Sweeney hurt/comfort!! (fights down desires to nurse Sweeney back to health)

**Toby** – No, your head's not pounding, silly! That's just me beating on this friggin' enormous drum! Kinda like Signor Pirelli beats on me! (begins spouting out rhymes like a jackrabbit on speed)

**Sweeney** – I'm going to beat on you too in a few minutes if you keep squeaking like that… or at least I'll give you a haircut. Jesus kid, who lives in there, a colony of Smurfs?

**Random Five-Year-Old** – Hey, mommy… that kid with the drum is _Ed!_ He was in my kindergarten class with me, but then he went away… But hey! Ed's mommy told me he left because he got called to go to a really nice kid's football training camp! Why did she lie, mommy?

**Mother of the Random Five-Year-Old** – Oh, Christ Almighty… Honey, when we get home, we're going to have a little talk about how the word "gay" doesn't just mean that someone's happy…

**Mrs. Lovett** – (holding a bottle of Pirelli's Miracle Elixir so that it dangles from her thumb and forefinger, and covering her nose with the other hand) WTF iz diz crab?

**Sweeney** – (smells it) I think I just threw up in my mouth a little bit. It smells like… Wait! I know exactly what this smells like! (takes a super-deep snort of it just to make sure, and goes cross-eyed) Yep, it's piss and friggin' ink! (faints – sexily)

**Hopeless Romantics in the Theater** – Not _faints - swoons!_

**Mrs. Lovett** – Tries to figure out how she can use Sweeney's unconsciousness to her advantage, but can't get his clothes off before…

**Signor Adolfo Pirelli** – Emerges (fabulously) from behind his (fabulous) curtain.

**SweeneyLovett Shippers in the Theater** – Die again. So close, and yet so far.

**Random Person in the Theater Who Enjoys Pointing Out the Obvious** – HEY, EVERYONE, IT'S _BORAT!!!_

**Disdainful Snobs (::cough::Conservatives::cough::) in the Theater** – Wow, Einstein. Don't you think you should've spent a few years growing some freaking brain cells before you went out in public? Oh wait, never mind, that "Borat" movie destroyed them all.

**Sweeney** – (is revived by the blinding cobalt blue color of Pirelli's suit) Good God. Definitely blowing chunks now.

**Pirelli** – And-_uh_ how are we all-_uh_ doing today-_uh_? I am-_uh_ doing just faaaaaa(gay vibrato)aaaaaabulous-_uh!_ Because-_uh_ I have-_uh_ shaved the richest bitches in all the lan-_uh_, but I've come-_uh_ to this crappy slum-hole-_uh_ to shave-_uh_ all of­-_uh_ you fine-_uh­_ gentlemen!

**Random Peasant Lady with a Beard** – And ladies!

**Pirelli** – (with a look on his face like he's smelling six-week-old raw fish and still trying to smile) Rrrrright-_uh_…

**Sweeney** – Okay, this arrogant fruit defies absolutely everything that I stand for, so I'm going to have to open up a can of sexy-shaving-whoop-ass-cream on his ass. (walks up to Pirelli with the confidence of a five-time Sex Olympics Gold-Medallist… because if such a thing existed he _would_ get the gold) See these razors! They're shiny! And I can kick your ass with them – in a metaphorical sense! (And in a literal sense, but that comes later in the movie). I see right through your fake-ass "Elixir." It's not even worthy of that capital "E" I just gave it, so there! _Aaaaand_, my razors are _shiny!_ So prepare to be vanquished!

**Complete and Utter Geeks in the Theater** – Huzzah!

**Pirelli** – BRING IT ON, BITCH!! You're shiny razors don't-_uh_ freak-_uh_ me out-_uh_! Especially not-_uh_ the flame-_uh_ decals(-_uh_).

**Sweeney** – Dammit. I thought Mrs. Lovett said she'd take the frickin' things off. Bitch. Okay, Pirelli, here's how it's going down. Normally, I would say you shave a dude, I shave a dude, and we see who's the fastest and best at it. But I say we make this a little more interesting. While we're shaving, let's have a battle of wits as well.

**Random Algebra Teacher in the Theater** – Because brain-power is the ultimate tool for success!

**Random Group of Punks Who Ditched School to Come to the Movie** – _You're_ the ultimate tool. 'Nuff said.

**Sweeney** – While we shave, we're going to have a contest to see who's shaved the most famous and richest people on the surface of the Earth. Because honestly, I've probably shaved ten times the rich bitches you have, _Signor_.

**Pirelli -** Alright-_uh_, biotch! Up here, now-_uh_! Prepare-_uh_ to be bitch-slapped-_uh_ silly!!! (throws his cape flamboyantly – it hits Toby smack in the face and starts to suffocate him)

**Toby** – (suffocating) Mmff.

**Sweeney** – Beadle Bamford, you can judge, because you're probably the only person who wants to… Hey, where's Beadle Bamford?

**Rat by the Fruit Cart** – (magically transforming in Beadle Bamford) Glaaaaaad, as always, to-

**Sweeney** – All right, all right, let's get this thing going. FREE SHAVE, BITCHES! MOVE IT OR LOSE IT!

_The contest commences. Both men are at the top of their game and the stakes are high. Unfortunately, the top of Pirelli's game isn't much compared to the top of Sweeney's game. In fact, most of London isn't sure that Pirelli ever even had a game to begin with. They're just hypnotized by his blindingly colorful clothing._

**Pirelli** – (shaving like there's no tomorrow) I've-_uh_ shaved-_uh_ the Pope-_uh_!

**Sweeney** – (examining his razor in a meticulous and sexily anal manner) I shaved Jesus. And the devil. At the same time.

**Pirelli** – (scraping at his dude's face with vigor) I shaved-_uh_ Henry VIII-_uh_!

**Sweeney** – (slowly and sexily running his razor along the leather sharpener) I shaved the legs of all ten hundred of his wives. Including the dead ones.

**Pirelli** – (gauging his dude's cheeks to a pulp) Well-_uh_, I shaved-_uh_ Johnny Depp!!

**Sweeney** – (blowing discreetly and sexily on the tip of his blade) Who the hell is that? Oh, and I shaved Michael Jackson, before and after every surgery.

**Pirelli** – George-_uh_ Bush-_uh_!

**Sweeney** – (yawning) Bill _and _Hillary Clinton.

**Pirelli** – Brad-_uh_ Pitt-_uh_!

**Sweeney** – Tom Cruise. Will Smith. Russell Crowe.

**Pirelli** – (out of breath, but prepared for the deadly blow) Well-_uh_… well-_uh_… (with a deranged cackle) I SHAVED-_uh_ PARIS HILTON'S-_uh_ MUSTACHE-_uh_!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

**Sweeney** – (grinning, subtly and yet oh so sexily, going in for the kill) Secretly, my friend, _I_ was the one who shaved Britney Spears' head. And I was the one who got Jamie Lynn pregnant. (shaves his man in .000000000000000000000001 seconds)

**Beadle Bamford** – TODD WINS!

**Fangirls in the Theater** – Die peaceful, Sweeney-infused deaths and float to Fangirl Heaven on a cloud of Sweeney's sexiness…

**That's all for now folks… I hope you appreciate the extra 700 words or so I threw in there to make up for the delay… Tune in next time for Part 6! Thanks everyone!**


	6. Beware of Attack Persian Rug

**Hello, everyone! Long time, no update!** And let me tell you, I'm _so_ sorry about that! My life caught up with me in a big way, so I didn't write for awhile. Then, I became obsessed with other fandoms and (gasp!) this story suffered some very unjust neglect. (sob) But I'm back now and hopefully will keep a steady flow of updates going until the end of our tale! )

**Thanks _so_ much to all my reviewers, and people who are sticking with this story through and through! I really can't tell you guys how great that is!**

Sooo, without _any_ further ado, I give you:

**Sweeney Todd: The Demon Parody of Fleet Street – Part 6**

(Still at the market… The crowd is cheering incessantly, like fans of David Cook at the American Idol finals. Little stuffed animals and bouquets keep flying onto the platform, occasionally missing their mark and whacking Toby in the face)

**Humanitarians in the Audience** – Gahhh!! Child abuse!!

**Sweeney** – Arrggh, Jesus Christ!! I'm allergic to displays of affection!! (picks up a teddy bear and bites its head off) GAAAH! DIIIIIIIIE!!

**Random Five-Year-Old** – Noooo! Mommy, I'm not quite sure, but I think I could be scarred for life now!

**Mother of the Random Five-Year-Old** – (takes out "So, You Think Your Child Could Be Scarred for Life" manual and flips to the "symptoms" page, glancing it over) Uhhh… nope, you're good for now. But my husband is gonna be scarred after I deal with him…

**People Who Have Already Seen the Movie** – And Sweeney hasn't even killed a _person_ yet…

**People Who Haven't Already Seen the Movie** – SHUT THE HELL UP!!

**Wise-Asses in the Theater** – Well, duh, you know he's gonna kill people if you've seen _any_ of the teasers on HBO!

**Mrs. Lovett** – (sweatdrops as Sweeney continues to desecrate stuffed animals) Uh… maybe we should go back now… an' 'ave some gin…

**Sweeney** – Deranged drug-pusher! …But yeah, gin actually does sound good…

**Random Nerd in the Theater** – Hey, waitaminute! This isn't an anime fic so you can't say "sweatdrop!"

**Another Random Nerd in the Theater** – Yeah, but Sweeney would be the _schmexiest_ bishie!!

**Normal People in the Theater** – Uh, WTF?

**Borat** –

(**Author of this Parody** – Er, wait, sorry…)

**Pirelli** – GREAT SUCCESS(-_uh_)!!

**Toby** – Okay, grandpa: (a) you're not Borat and (b) this was definitely _not_ a (makes air quotes because air quotes seem to be the trend in this parody) "great success." You got smoked. Served. Owned. Pwned. Bitch-slapped. Treated. Knocked on you're a-

**Pirelli** – Alright-uh, that's-uh _it-uh!!_ Get-_uh_ ready to go to a whole new-_uh_ world-_uh_…

(Magic carpet flies into the scene in front of Pirelli and Toby)

**People Reading This Fic** – Aw, friggin' _nasty!!_ This is, like, the most disturbing pairing EVER!! (Okay, maybe not as disturbing as that one PippinxGimli blanket fic, but still!!)

**Pirelli** – STUPID-_UH_!! I meant a whole new_-uh_ world_-uh_ of pain_-uh_!

**People Reading the Fic** – Oh.

**Magic Carpet** – (flies off in search of Pippin and Gimli…)

**Random Newscaster** – Meanwhile, back in Middle Earth…

**Legolas** – A storm is coming… I sense… I sense…

**Fangirls** – Drool.

**Legolas** – I sense…

**Random Theater Employee** – Come _on_, man, am I gonna have to go get an effing mop to clean up all the girlie drool that's pooling on the freaking floor??

**Legolas** – (runs his fingers through his hair) Um, excuse me, but I'm trying my best here. I'm not exactly _in_ the screenplay for this movie so I'm attempting to improvise, if you don't mind.

**Fangirls** – WE DON'T MIND!! WE DON'T MIND!!

**Legolas** – Ah, wait, I've got it! I sense… upholstery…?

**Carpet** – (flies into the scene, and whacks into Legolas's face) WHACK, BITCH!!

**Legolas** – Erp. (suffocates.)

**Fangirls** – (die.) (Or rather, they go find Persian rugs and strangle themselves because they want to die the same valiant death as Leggie.)

**Dead Legolas** – Please don't call me Leggie.

**Random Newcaster** – (with a very morose expression on his face) Isn't that just a shame… (Takes off morose-expression mask and returns to his cheerful self) And now, back to London, where Pirelli is giving Toby a sound kick in the beeeeep.

**Guy who Has to Sit in the Little Room Above the Theater and Run the Movie Reel** – I swear this movie gets more effed up every time we play it…

**Random Dude Who Kiiiiinda Looks Like He Might Need a Shave** – Um, so, Mister… um, yeah, I had a ques-

**Sweeney** – No-I-will-not-make-out-with-you-so-buzz-off-biotch!!

**Random Dude** – Hey, woah, man, I totally don't roll that way… um, no, I mean, swing like that… Ah wait, that's not it!! Your sexiness is confusing me!!

**Sweeney** – Whatever, it happens. (heaves a sexily exasperated sigh) Are you about finished blubbering?

**Random Dude** – Uh, yes sir, I am. (Apparently he doesn't recognize sexy sarcasm)

**Random Newscaster** – (with morose-expression mask on) What a shame…

**Sweeney** – GET THE HELL OUTTA HERE!! Now, what were we wasting our breath on?

**Random Dude** – Uh, yeah, I was just wondering if you had a place where you could shave me because I look like I was dragged through the Tasmanian undergrowth by the Incredible Hulk - backwards.

**Sweeney** – Uh, yeah I can see that. Well, I-

**Mrs. Lovett** – (popping up from complete oblivion) You-bet'cher-arse-'e-'as-a-tonsorial-parlor-it's-just-above-my-meat-pie-emporium-an'-my-pies-suck-major-arse-but-they're-better-than-the-grounhog-jerky-I-used-to-give-people-an'-wouldn'-you-like-to-'ave-a-nice-juicy-piece-of-shit-while-waitin'-to-be-shaved-by-a-sex-god?!

**Random Dude** – (is having trouble processing the tsunami of Cockney vowels he just got flung at him; his eye is twitching) Urrgh… erm… tonsils… urg… jerky… juicy… urgrrrm… sex…

**Mrs. Lovett** – Well, good, I think 'e got the point. Let's go back an' 'ave that gin, shall we?

**Sweeney** – Wait… I smell body odor the equivalent of six-month-old Nachos Bell Grande… it could only be-

**Beadle Bamford** – Ahhhhh, Mister Todd! That demonstration was eeeeeeexcellent! (he fails to notice that everyone within a five-foot radius of him is turning a vivid, wonderful shade of cat-crap green) I know you'll probably be quiiiiiiite _busy_ (makes pervert eyes at Mrs. Lovett) after all this, but I would love to be shaved by a man of your _sex_-pertise… Oh wait, did I say that out loud…?

**Mrs. Lovett** – (trying to contain her raging female hormones a she stands next to Sweeney) Well… heh… uhm… I think ye might wanna try a dentist first… an' maybe a shower…

**Historically Accurate People in the Theater** – Yeah, if those things even _existed_ back then, dumbass!

**Fangirls in the Theater** – I WANNA TAKE A SHOWER WITH SWEENEY!!

**Random Five-Year-Old** – Mommy, wouldn't they be embarrassed for him to see them in the shower?

**Mother of the Random Five-Year-Old** – Not even gonna try to answer that one.

**Beadle** – So yeah, ummm, I'll be there before the end of this week. (with a creepy rotten smile) I'm looking forward to it, you two… (waddles away with a perverted twinkle in his eye)

**Mrs. Lovett** – Okay, what kind of business does this guy think we run…? Maybe if ye shaved 'is creepy eyebrows off 'e'd look less like a child molester…

**Sweeney** – I think he's beyond my help. Maybe that Extreme Makeover show could do something, but wow, he could kill babies just by looking at them.

**People in the Theater Who Don't Like Dead Baby Jokes** – Really?! _Really, _now?! You're sick!

**Fangirls** – But he's still sexy!

**People in the Theater Who Don't Like Dead Baby Jokes** – Yeah, true that…

**Mrs. Lovett** – Well, anyhoo, let's mosey on back now…

**Sweeney** – Freaky wench! No, I will not take a bath with you!!

(**Author of This Parody** – Back in the creepy attic, Mrs. Lovett is humming "Whistle While You Work" and hanging up lace curtains, potpourri balls, and paintings of cherubs; Sweeney is pacing around like a five-year-old who has to pee – except sexier than a five-year-old… Wait, that's very wrong, five-year-olds aren't sexy at all, ew… Okay, he's pacing like a caged tiger.)

**Fangirls** – Rawr!

**Sweeney** – Rawr.

**Fangirls** – OMFG HE RAWRED!

**Sweeney** – That beadle dude better get his fat ass over here so I can kill him!

**Mrs. Lovett** – O.o Well that was blunt.

**People in the Theater Who Look For Plot Holes** – Yeah, but wouldn't the judge just get suspicious if he killed the beadle first?

**Sweeney** – Bloodlust knows no logic.

**Random Berserker Knight** – A-_men_, brotha!

**Sweeney** – Thanks – but seriously, I'm about to rip my fingernails out here… And what's that godawful smell? It smells like something took a crap all over the place and then died!

**Mrs. Lovett** – (trying to take down the potpourri balls inconspicuously but looking conspicuous anyway) Can't-cha jus' friggin' be _patient?_ I mean, seriously, I waited fifteen years fer ye te come back 'ere an' it wos hell! I even wound up killin' me poor Albert- Okaaaay, people definitely weren't s'posed to hear that… But really, I wasn' easy on 'im wot wiv the cheese grater bein' so accessible an' all…

**Mother of the Random Five-Year-Old** – Why does this remind me so much of the potato incident…?

**Sweeney** – Okay, Captain Weirdo, if you're so friggin' _awesome_ at waiting, what do you propose we do until Admiral Ugly knocks on our door?

**Guy With the Thick French Accent From SopngeBob Squarepants** – Five hours later…

**Sweeney** – (completely exasperated) Do… you… have… any… tens.

**Mrs. Lovett** – (clapping her hands with glee) Nope, go fish!! Do ye 'ave any jacks?

**Sweeney** – (groans and throws his two jacks at her) Any threes?

**Mrs. Lovett** – (giggling) Teehee… what's the magic woo-oord?

**Sweeney** – (throwing all his cards in the air) FORGET THIS, BITCH! THIS IS THE MOST RETARDED GAME EVER! IT ISN'T EVEN ANYTHING _LIKE_ FISHING! (Not that I've ever been fishing really.) THIS IS EVEN WORSE THAN PLAYING FRICKING _DODGEBALL_ IN PRISON! WITH PLATYPUSSES! I… I… (trying to find an applicable expression for his rage) I _HATE_ YOU!!

**Entire Freaking Audience** – Gasp!

**Entire Freaking Cast of the Movie** – Gasp!

**God** – Gasp!

**Harry Potter** – Gasp! And my gasp counts more than God's gasp because my books almost sold out the Bible!

**Edward Cullen** – Gasp! Take that, bitch, "Twilight" kicks ass!

**Fangirls** – (swarm Edward)

**Harry Potter** – Ha ha, you're f--ed now!

**Badasses in the Theater** – Dude… Sweeney just dropped the H-bomb… Harsh…

**Sweeney** – And why the hell do these cards have pictures of _me_ on the back of them, anyway?!

**Mrs. Lovett** – Never mind! Mister Todd, you just flipped my bitch-switch and now I'm pissy so I'm taking my cards elsewhere! Hey, here comes that fruity Italian dude, maybe him and his toady manservant punching bag wanna play Old Maid!

**Sweeney** – And my life just gets better and better…

**Fangirls** – (back from mauling Edward) Maybe not, but your face sure does! (glomp the screen)

**Thanks again, readers! Can't wait for Part 7!**


	7. What Would Michael Jackson Do?

**Oh my goodness gracious, people. Has it really been this long since I updated? _Really?_ I'm sorry, I'm just... wow. I feel atrocious. Life has been ridiculous, it's true, but that's no excuse. I saw a story recently with a title that kinda seemed like it was spoofed off of mine, which I took as a compliment, but I did think the idea of a spoof of a spoof was kinda funny.**

**I really have to thank all my reviewers, especially the ones that review multiple times. You know who you are, and you really kept me writing this thing through thick and thin.**

**But what am I blabbing about now? It's 1:15 in the morning and this show's finally getting back on the road! So, without further ado:**

**Sweeney Todd: The Demon Parody of Fleet Street – Part 7**

_Outside the *cough* barbershop *cough*, Mrs. Lovett floofs down the moldy stairs to meet Pirelli._

**Walking-Dictionary-Type People in the Audience** – What the hell kind of a word is "floofs?"

**Random Flaming Guy** – It's _my_ kind of a word, dollface! (Starts singing "What's New Pussycat" at top volume)

**Walking-Dictionary-Types** – Oh, go buy some hairgel, why don't you?

**Mrs. Lovett** – Hey, fruit basket! (notices Toby) and tasty – erm, I mean _cute_ child! These playing cards are just caaaaaaalling your names; uh, see? (holds the cards up to her face and whispers in a ghostly voice, "Fruuuuiit, chiiiiiild… come play Old Maaaaaid wiv us…!")

**Toby** – Those aren't our names, you batty freak.

**Pirelli** – Besides-_uh_, I cannot-_uh_ play-_uh_ Old Maid-_uh_ at­-_uh_ the moment-_uh_. I 'ave some-_uh_ beeeesuhnes-_uh_ to conduct weeth Meeestair Tode-_uh_.

**Mrs. Lovett** – (O.o) Ohhhhhh… I see how that is… (under her breath) Dammit, I knew there 'ad to be some reason 'e wasn't goin' for my new Victoria's Secret push-up… That thing was what turned Lindsey Lohan lesbian… (back to Pirelli) Welllll, you gentlemen 'ave fun… (begins to walk away with Toby and then turns around again) Don'tgetAIDS.

**Toby** – (As Mrs. Lovett leads him away) Hey lady, what's AIDS? Is it like a special first-aid kit that it takes two guys to use?

**Mrs. Lovett** – How'dja like some nice memory-erasing alcohol?

**Random Five-Year-Old in the Theater** – Mommy, what _is_ AIDS?

**Mother of the Random Five-Year-Old** – It's what happens to you when you let someone else _besides_ the doctor give you shots… Remember how uncle Stephen died?

**Random Five-Year-Old** – Oh… I thought it was because you thought he wasn't upholding the end of our family's bargain with the Chinese Mafia-

**Mother of Random Five-Year-Old** – (claps a hand over her child's mouth and looks around nervously) Hehehehe… Noooo, sweety… (suddenly dead serious) He-died-of-AIDS-and-I-will-burn-your-stuffed-Kermit-the-frog-if-you-tell-anyone-otherwise.

**Random Five-Year-Old** – Okay. (long pause) Hey mommy, what's alcohol?

**Mother** – Magic.

_Meanwhile, back in the barbershop-o-fun…_

**Aspiring Salon Owner in the Audience** – "Barbershop-O-Fun!!" _That's _what I'll call my leased strip-mall salon!!

_Anyway, back in the barbershop-o-fun…_

**Sweeney** – Anthony, you bitch, what the hell are you doing back here? Do you have balls yet?

**Anthony** – (starts to look down his pants)

**Sweeney** – (exasperated… sexily exasperated) No, _no_, for _God's_ sake, don't _check_… It was a hypothetical question.

**Anthony** – Oh, then I won't be answering, I guess… (to himself) Note to self: learn to recognize dry jokes made at your own expense. (to Sweeney) I _did _meet this awesome chick, though! Like, worlds better than those native ones I did the nasty with quite a few times… Actually, I don't know if she's better 'cause I haven't nailed her yet, but there's this pervy Judge who's constantly trying to use her as a sex-slave, so that complicates things a bit-

**Sweeney** – Wait.

**Anthony** – What?

**Sweeney** – What did you say her name was?

**Anthony** – Who?

**Sweeney** – The girl.

**Anthony** – I didn't say her name yet.

**Sweeney** – Idiot, can't you recognize cliché, witty movie dialogue when you're a _character in a movie?_

**Anthony** – No. I can recognize a hot babe when I see one though, and that Johanna is one hot-

**Sweeney** – Stop.

**Anthony** – (suddenly wearing full bling and a baggy gangsta tracksuit) Hammer time?

**Sweeney** – No, you _dolt._ Stop talking for a minute. What did you say her name was?

**Anthony** – And this time I _did_ say her name: Johanna!

**Sweeney** – (makes gurgling noises of unspeakable rage)

**Acousticophobes in the Audience** – So _that's _why this movie is rated R.

(**Random Talking Webster's Dictionary** – Acousticophobia: \ə-ˈküs-tik-ˈā-ˈfō-bē-ə\ 1. an acute, irrational fear of noises. 2. If you are an acousticophobe _get the hell over it or live in a plastic bubble_.)

**Sweeney** – You want to sex my _daughter_, you punk?!

**Tim Burton** – No, Johnny, not yet! Hold it in, for Chrissakes!

**Sweeney** – (suddenly self-conscious) But I really have to go!

**Tim** – No, not _that._ _That's_ what your trailer's for – later. But right now, your _character_ needs to zip his lips, otherwise I see another writers' strike happening in the near future…

**Sweeney** – Got it. (back to Anthony) Uh… undo what I just said. I'm still gurgling with insane (sexy) rage.

**Anthony** – Okay… (begins to overcompensate for the mistake by acting ridiculously fake) Mr. Todd, is something wrong? You look like you're gurgling with insane (sexy) rage.

**Sweeney** – (improvising with Anthony) Ummm… No… Actually, that's my stomach. I'm… so hungry because… because I haven't eaten since it started living in this shit-hole. So run – now – and get me a… panini. From Panera- I mean… Ye Olde Panera.

**Anthony** – (hears Pirelli coming up the steps) Ohhhhh, okay! (runs out the door, but pops his greasy head back in at the last second) Did you want mayo on your panini, Mr. Todd?

**Sweeney** – No. But I do like extra cheese. And no pickle.

**Anthony** – Haha, yeah, don't pickles suck?

**Sweeney** – Get out.

**Random Fangirls in the Theater** – No… No… Pickles don't suck! At least, not _Sweeney's_ pickle! Actually, it's the inverse of that: his pickle doesn't suck, but _we_ want to suck his-

**Random Flaming Guy in the Theater** – PICKLE!!! (starts singing "Hello Dolly" at maximum volume)

_Anthony runs out the door in a cloud of dust and man perfume… Not cologne - man perfume._

**Pirelli** – (popping his head in the door as Anthony leaves) So, Meester Tode-_uh_.

**Sweeney** – Did you just call me Mr. _Toad?_ As in, "Mr. Toad's Wild Ride," the "Raging-Bull" of popular children's attractions?

**Pirelli** – (suddenly realizing that he wasn't supposed to reveal that he knows Sweeney until a few lines later) Uh, yes-_uh_. In-_uh_ Italy, it is-_uh_ – how you say – "term of endearment…-_uh_."

**Sweeney** – (with a keen look of seductive pensiveness) Really…

_Meanwhile, Mrs. Lovett caters to Toby's every alcoholic craving. On the table inside the emporium lobby we see every nine-year-old British boy's favorite liquor selections: Skyy, Mike's Hard Lemonade, and Jack Daniels._

**Toby** – Didja know this isn't my real hair?

**Mrs. Lovett** – (taking a swig of Jack and teetering in her seat) Really? That's sooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo intreeeeeguing.

**Toby** – Yeah. (takes off wig) The boss back at the warehouse where I worked and lived used to make us dress up like Jessica Simpson and poledance for him, but we haven't poledanced since Jessica Simpson got fat and the government gave us rape whistles and pamphlets called "WWMJD: What Would Michael Jackson Do? Easy Steps to Spotting a Child Predator." But somehow, the wig became part of my persona.

**Mrs. Lovett** – Yooooooooouuuu… Are a realllllly smart… drunk.

**Toby** – Hey, it takes one to know one.

**Alcoholics Anonymous Member in the Audience** – Actually kid, in this case, it really doesn't.

**Toby** – Anyway, I think that you could be my guide and mentor out of my dark age of destitution and subservience. What d'ya say, marm?

**Mrs. Lovett** – Do it, kid… Raaaaaaage against the macheeeeeeeene… Stick it to the maaaaaannnnnnn!

**Toby** – (tears in his eyes) Such eloquence!

_Meanwhile again, this time back to the barbershop-o-fun…_

**Aspiring Salon Owner** – That name just grows on me more and more!

**Sweeney** – Well, if you're sure you don't know me and you're just a random fruitloop from off the street, you can come in and enjoy a cup of tea that Mrs. Lovett was just brewing up here. It'll be good that _some_ lout enjoys it, because it's against my anti-religion to drink anything that induces happiness, tranquility, or calm oneness with Mother Earth.

**Pirelli** – (suddenly in a British accent) I do believe I'm rather partial to your corner.

**Sweeney** – _Excuse_ me?

**Pirelli** – I used to sit in that corner of the room over there in time-out after you consistently _beat_ me when I was your lowly _apprentice!_

**Sweeney** – Oh shit. Save me, Oprah!

(**Random National Geographic Scholar** – Observe, if you will, the growing tension in the interactions among the homo sapien individuals in this environment: Here we have Sweeney Todd, who is growing more sexily crestfallen moment by moment, recalling some dark time in his past and some great grievance he can't undo. Now, here we have his apprentice, who's real name we'll learn in a moment, who _thinks_ he's going to make it out of this with nary a scratch. How very freaking wrong he is. Now, _here_ we have some fine specimens of fangirls, drooling at the one Sweeney Todd and exclaiming such utterances as…)

**Random Fangirls** – CHOP THAT BASTARD'S HEAD OFF, YOU HUNK OF FICTIONAL SEX!!!!

**Random Berserker Knight** – CHOP THAT BASTARD'S HEAD OFF, YOU HUNK OF FICTIONAL BADASSERY!!!!

**Mother of the Random Five-Year-Old** – CHOP THAT BASTARD'S HEAD OFF, YOU HUNK OF FICTIONAL REPRESSED EMOTIONS!!!! [I used to be a psychiatrist.]

**Tea Kettle** – CHOP THAT BASTARD'S HEAD OFF, BECAUSE I - THE SYMBOL OF THE DEEP, UNDERLYING TENSION BETWEEN THE PROTAGONIST AND THE ANTAGONIST – AM SICK OF _WHISTLING MY ASS OFF!!!!_

**Sweeney** – Al_right_, already!! (kills Pirelli)

**Aspiring Salon Owner** - Okaaaay, maybe "Barbershop-o-Fun" is _not_ the best name for my new venue...

**Hemophobes in the Audience (i.e. People with a Phobia of Blood)** – Die.

**Anemophobes in the Audience (i.e. People with a Phobia of Air)** – Die. (But they've been dead for a long time, considering they're too afraid to breathe.)

**Random Fangirls** – HAROOOOOOO!!!!!!

**Random Berserker Knight **– HAROOOOOOO!!!!

**Richard Nixon** – HAROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!![I win.]

**Aaaaaaand yeah. That's it for now. I _promise_, more will come... Thanks so much again, reviewers! =)**


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